Parts of a Whole or Sides of a Coin?
by FlashDriver
Summary: As night sets in, Rouge and Knuckles need to set up for camp. Their different styles of living are brought to the forefront, the traditional echidna can only watch the tech savvy spy hardly has to work. What do these differences mean for their newly formed relationship? Written for Knuxouge week 2019!


It'd been a long day. Knuckles the echidna, age 18, was forcing his way through a dense treeline. He was trying to cause as little damage as he could, only using his knuckles where the brush got too thick, but he was well up to his waste in grass and bushes. The guardian of the master emerald wasn't on angel island, he'd descended to the surface with a purpose; treasure hunting.

The sun was on the verge of setting but, due to the density and height of the forest, sight was already restricted. Pushing forward despite that; the echidna was wearing his lucky treasure-hunting hat (a cowboy hat with a few stars around the rim) and had a pair of bags slung over his shoulder. One was a small drawstring bag, no bigger than his head, and filled only with the necessities while the other was a bulky duffle bag filled with who knows what.

"Alright, I think that's probably enough deforestation for one day," A defeated sigh sounded behind him, "Let's hunker down for the night."

To call treasure hunting his purpose was only a half-truth. Following the devastation was the owner of the bulkier bag. Rouge the bat, jewel thief and spy, was following his fists' devastation. She was dressed in her usual garb, albeit with the addition of a belt that carried a few tools, and was managing to keep clean despite the nature of their surroundings. While grass stained his boots, speckles of bark lined his fur and the tips of his knuckles were thoroughly darkened, it seemed as though she'd gone untouched. Well, that was usually how their dates went; he'd look the fool while she'd come out pristine. Why should this one be any different?

He supposed it was getting late, clouds were starting to roll in; soon there'd be no light at all, "Yeah, alright. Let's look for a clearing," He quickly nodded back at her before continuing to push forward, "That, or make one of our own if we have to."

They'd been on a couple of these so-called dates since they started quote unquote dating four months back. Usually their outings consisted of doing whatever Rouge wanted to do; she'd drag him to the cinema or take him out for dinner, pull him practically anywhere she wanted and insist he was arm-candy to be honest. Knuckles had humoured most of her requests, the only real exception being a spa day, both because of his infatuation, a weakness he was still grappling with, and because… well… he didn't get out very much. The moment she'd heard of Knuckle's new relationship, Amy had been very encouraging and had offered to guard the master emerald in his stead. He'd been hesitant at first, naturally, but with time he had come around to the idea. More often than not, Amy would drag Sonic up there with her for the day to sightsee and such. With Amy alone up there the emerald would be in safe hands but with both of them it was practically untouchable.

This date was a little bit different though; this date appealed to their mutual interests. Rouge had deciphered an inscription on what she'd thought was an old and boring stone tablet only to learn of a lost city built within a diamond filled cavern. Research had followed and it would seem that the society had crumbled due to greed within the populous and infighting over how many of the jewels to harvest. Details about the city's location were scant but rumours stated that the entrance was within a forest on the very island they currently walked. This was only the first day of their quest and it had proved rather fruitless, they'd found some evidence of the civilisation (scant stonework) but there was no sign of an entrance.

They'd been trying to make their way across the forest, assuming that there would at least be some kind of change in the treeline as they approached that site (if not a giant hole in the ground). Knuckles hadn't been doing all the work of course, they'd taken shifts in clearing the path and leading the way (Knuckles using his intuition while Rouge relied on GPS gadgetry). He was confident enough in his gut to accept that this was the right way, a blow to the tree in front of him proved that hunch correct.

The wood buckled far more easily than any tree he'd encountered prior and a spray of soot entered the area. Pausing to scan the upcoming forest, Knuckles quickly noticed a change. A group of long-dead trees were slumped ahead of him, mostly pale though parts of their wood had turned to charcoal. It was immediately obvious what had happened, lightning had struck at least one of them and fire had spread to those surrounding; creating somewhat of a dead zone. Knuckles approached the central tree; it hadn't decayed too much. The tree probably tried to fight off death but recently died.

"I think this is a good spot to clear, the trees are dead so they'll be easy to shift. They should make good firewood too," Knuckles relayed.

"Firewood? Always so archaic Knuckie, if you insist," Without a second thought the bat delivered a shattering kick to the first of the dead trees, easily felling it.

Not one to be outdone Knuckles quickly set to work, throwing punches and helping to quickly create a clearing, "Eh? What else am I supposed to cook on? It's not like there are cookers in the wild."

"Poor uncivilised Knuckles, you really have been roughing it," She sighed, "Once we're done I'll show you how the world has changed during your absence."

Half-ignoring her, Knuckles continued his assault on the wood and allowed himself to focus on his thoughts. Relationships had always been more than a little strange to Knuckles, his primary exposure to love was Amy's pining for Sonic. The young hedgehog often regaled him with tales of what would be; walks on the beach, cold nights inside and more kisses than he could ever hope to count. It was all sickeningly sweet, ludicrously in depth and often more than he could really stand to hear. Was he going to end up like that? Well, he hadn't before they'd started their relationship so maybe not. Still, the hedgehog had one thing over him; she seemed to understand what being in a relationship really meant while he did not.

As the last of the trunks were blown aside, Knuckles started to set about the removal of the trunks. Before the sun could set much further they'd perfected their clearing, the echidna shrugged the bags from his shoulders. He'd brought water, he'd hope with the size of her bag that Rouge had too, so his first goal was to create shelter.

Having endured for years alone on a sky island, the guardian of the master emerald was more than prepared. He wandered just a little beyond their clearing, immersing himself in the luscious green forest, and scanned the canopy above. He found sighted his target, broad-leaved branches. Clambering up a thick trunk, Knuckles easily knocked a few good branches from the trees and dragged them back to the clearing. That done, he only needed one more item to complete his shelter; rope. Knuckles pulled open his drawstring bag, exposing his shovel-claws, a thick blanket, his water gourd and the food he'd collected both before and on this journey.

Ignoring all of that, Knuckles unravelled the rope from his bag (untying the knots in it to get several lengths) and got to work. Picking up some grass, he found that the wind was gentle but blowing in from behind him; thus that was where the wall of his shelter would be. Knuckles took his gathered branches and broke a long twig off of one, using it as a stabiliser to lash the large branches together. That process was two more times for safety's sake, once at the top and once near the branches' centres, but his task was quickly complete. The echidna has essentially built a single sheet of trellis, a metre and a half long and around a metre high, and propped it against a thick tree.

"Alright, that was easy," Knuckles boasted, propping up his cover and tucking his bag inside, "This'll keep my nice and dry; safe from the wind and safe from the rain. I can build you one if you really want Bat Gi-

The sound of static briefly broke into his ears but it was quickly replaced by smooth jazz. Throwing his gaze over his shoulder, Knuckles couldn't see Rouge but he did see a bizarre object in the clearing. It almost looked like an oversized black parasol with the points of its brim staked to the ground. Just as he'd started to scan his surroundings for his companion, debating whether the thing was the source of the jazz, he sighted the glimmer of a sliver zip rending open the device to create a doorway. There was a flash of light he had to blink to overcome but soon all was made clear too him.

Rouge had exited from what seemed to be an elaborate, compactable, tent; a torch in one hand and a smaller bag in the other. What's more, the bat hadn't emerged in her prior garb, she had fully changed into her pyjamas. A fluffy pink dressing gown obscured most of her body, cutting off just an inch above her ankles, but he observed a set of black pyjama bottoms poking out the bottom and swore he caught sight of a hot-pink shirt beneath her lapels. The bat was, of course, both pristine and smirking at him. Every aspect was designed to enrage him, right down to her slippers.

"Good evening neighbour. I was about to start on dinner," To emphasise her point, the spy drew a small what looked to be a small gas canister from her bag and staked it into the ground, "Care to join me?"

"Wh-What is that?" The echidna questioned, pointing at her bizarre abode.

"Oh, what, my tent?" The bat grinned, affixing an upward spout to her canister and setting it alight with the flash of a lighter, "Just a little something to keep me dry. It's rather high-end and more than a little outside your budget Knuckie-dearest. You just stake the guide pole into the ground and it sets itself up for you, doesn't take more than a minute," She pulled a small pot and a water bottle from her back, filling it before setting it to boil, "It'll keep heat in, keep the rain out and, while it's made for one, I'm more than willing to share."

He broke away from her mischievous gaze, "My shelter is perfect, thank you. It too longer to set up so it has to be better than yours."

"Sure hun. Well, if you change your mind my door is open," The bat produced a bizarre tinfoil packet from her bag, no bigger than her hand and only a few centimetres thick, "What're you doing for dinner?"

"Oh, I've got a plan," He grunted, turning back to his shelter and affixing the shovel-claws to his fists, "What about you?"

"Bog standard rations I'm afraid, should have what amounts to a beef stew in around twenty minutes," She explained, "Quick and easy, perfect way to wind down after a long day."

"Well, like I said, what takes longer will always be better," Knuckles grunted, making his way over to one of the downed, long-dead, trees. With the bluntness he was well known for, he used his claws to chop the log into pieces, broke off twigs for kindling and snapped free an overly large stick to use as a kitchen utensil, "Patience is a virtue."

"Oh, you're going to fish? Without any streams, miles from the ocean," He could hear her eyes sarcastically roll, "Patience is important but there's being patient and there's being rational, Knuckie."

Refusing to return her goad, Knuckles set about making a pyre to cook on. He arranged the kindling in a cone shape, pointing to the sky, and set the larger logs around it to act as a barrier. Setting the wood alight was simple; he scraped the shovel-claws together in order to create a spark, allowing it to fall into the dry mass and quickly spread. A few moments, and a few slightly larger sticks, later, the guardian had created a small bonfire. Next he turned to the stick he had saved and used the claws to shear away the bark before sharpening its end.

As the fire crackled and everything went to plan, Knuckles couldn't help but feel confident again. The smell of beef was carried on the air but it was much too strong, a clear sign of a highly artificial stock, "I'll show you what wild cooking is all about."

"I'm sure you will," She yawned.

Only the cooking was left to do. Rummaging through his bag and drawing out all the food he'd both brought and collected. He started with what he knew best, mushrooms. Picking out two in particular (bigger than his hand, plush to the touch and brown in colouration), Knuckles used his claws to cut the fungus-flesh into eight sizable chunks. Rummaging blindly in the bag, he next drew out three palm-sized tubers. He'd gathered these when he first arrived on the island, identifying them as a strain of sweet potato. They were quickly chopped into slices and, alike the mushrooms, the chunks atop the folded burlap of his bag. Finally, he pulled out a huge, hard-shelled, fruit. He'd gathered a few more plants but, amongst them, he knew this to be a true gourmet ingredient. He didn't know it's name but he certainly recognised its bulbous form, despite being a plantain.

Without a second thought, uncertain of the fruit's structural integrity now let alone once it was cooked, he chopped it rather than daring to peal its thick carapace. As his claw cleaved, Knuckles' senses were sent into disarray. Despite its yellow exterior the fruit's insides were a bright red and though the shell was thick the flesh itself was only fractionally softer. As the fruit was breached it unleashed a smell that Knuckles could only describe as sickeningly sweet, his teeth clenched as he kept his empty stomach down.

"Knuckles, what is that?" The bat grabbed her nose and awkwardly shifted her cooker further from his mangy hut and closer to her own, "How can it smell so much worse on the inside? It has to be mouldy, that can't be natural."

"Most good things smell awful before they're cooked," Knuckles huffed, turning his back to the bat, "Just you wait, enjoy your oversized seasoning packets. I'll be eating well in no time."

"I'll lend you some medicine when you're done," Rouge promised, audibly swirling away at her pot, "Poisoning yourself in the middle of nowhere, honestly Knuckie you're lucky to have me."

"We'll see about that," He contended, shedding the shovel-claws and beginning to skewer the overabundance of plants on his sharpened stick.

Food like this made up the bulk of Knuckles' diet; mushrooms were so common on Angel Island that he'd quickly learned to identify those he could eat. He usually grew his own vegetables (peppers, tomatoes, potatoes and other fairly basic crops) but he'd had practice with a broad range of foodstuffs.

He held the makeshift shish kebab above the flames, careful to let the fire lick his meal but never engulf it. It was easy enough work but Knuckles soon found his attempt to show off was hindering him; the stick was much too long and he couldn't cook the entire meal at once. Begrudgingly, he snapped the skewer in two and opted to fill his hands. There was the same eating in it either way.

It was in quiet moments like these, when he was around her, that the nature of their relationship started to puzzle him. They were clearly still competitive, she still taunted him and they'd been mocking each other's methods, but they were also together? They were what Amy referred to as an item or a couple? Knuckles hadn't really had anyone to explain the intricacies of romance to him, he'd been wholly devout in his duties, so now that romance was upon him he was… well, stumped to be frank. What was he supposed to do and, more importantly, what did it all mean?

The guardian threw a look to his partner, finding her hunched over her pot; gently stirring it with a soupspoon. He was pretty sure he liked her, fairly certain he loved her even, but he didn't really have a comparison to draw upon. This was all so new to him, why did people even get together? It wasn't as though their relationship matched the others he'd seen, they seemed to snipe at each other far more than any of those relationship. They taunted each other, goaded each other, but that just seemed to empower them. She could wind him up like no one else could and drove him crazier than he thought possible. Yet, he was still certain that he loved her. When she'd asked him out, he'd said yes. Why were they like this?

Aqua eyes flickered up to meet his purple set; he'd been caught staring. Blush crept across his cheeks but knuckles managed to force a sneer, trying to turn his stupidity into a goad as he turned to look back down at his food. Things were going well, perfectly even; the strong scent of the fruit had faded and been replaced by the hearty smell of roasted mushrooms. That was when the echidna felt something slide down his back and then, before he could react, something ran down his cheek. As he looked to the sky above just in time for it to open up, what'd started as a few mere taps became a constant pitter-patter.

Rain had started to fall, smoke started to rise from his fire as it petered out. Panicking more than a little, Knuckles immediately acted. Lowering the sticks closer to the flame and dropping to his knees, hearing the squelch of newly wetted ground, Knuckles began to blow on the fading embers of his pyre. But the torrent simply grew more powerful, he watched as the last of his glowing charcoal was snuffed out.

"Knuckie! Over here!" He turned, expecting mockery only to be surprised. Rouge had ditched her rations, pouring the beefy sludge on the ground next to her, and flipped her pot to protect the portable stove's flame. She was sat in the doorway of her shelter and reaching out, trying to keep dry, "Don't just stand there gawking, come on!"

Knuckles rushed across the clearing, shielding what were now their meals rather than just his with his body. He crossed the sticks over her smaller flame, trying to keep his meal not only warm but cooking. Steam and smoke were sizzling, overflowing from the pot and obscuring his view of the bat.

"So, why'd you ditch the rations?" He blindly called out over the rapping of rain on metal and the drivel on the radio.

"Useful as they are, they always taste like dirt. Your stuff was starting to smell better," He heard her concede, "I just really hope you know what you're cooking."

"I'll make sure your bet pays off, don't you worry," Knuckles promised, flipping the skewers, "Shouldn't be too much longer."

The pot briefly shook, steam bloomed from the cooker, "I'm already shivering, you must be freezing."

Knuckles snorted, "Yeah, well. Years of experience, I can handle a little rain."

"You shouldn't sleep soaked to the bone. I really need to take you shopping," The bat both ignored him and insisted, "A jacket, some better shoes and a few pairs of trousers will do you the world of good. Keep you dry at the very least."

While she wasn't wrong, she'd said something Knuckles took exception to, "Hey, what's wrong with my shoes?"

"They're a little… garish," She not-so-delicately answered, "Green's your colour, yellow not so much, but I can't tell what's going on with your laces. Are they slip-on?"

"S-So what if they are?" He huffed.

"You've been hiking around an island for 20 years in slip-on shoes?! Honestly. Knuckles," Knuckles knew her voice well enough to know she was only half teasing, "When we're back, I'm buying you a proper wardrobe."

"I'm fine Rouge, I don't need clothes,"

"You look good shirtless but I won't have you freezing to death," He tried not to think too much about that but the heat on his cheeks was a rather permanent reminder, "It'll only take a day."

"A day!? That's way too long," Knuckles huffed.

"Well, if you'd prefer, I could just pick out everything for you," She taunted. The echidna didn't need to see her face to know that the bat was smirking, "It won't take me half as long on my own, I'll just pick out what I think suits you."

Rolling his eyes, he grunted and feigned far more annoyance than he actually felt; "Fine, I'll come."

"That's more like it," She cooed, clearly overexcited by this prospect, "Of course, I'll still pick out a couple of things for you. Just to make sure you don't make too many fashion faux pas."

The guardian turned chef finally removed his dish from the fire, quickly hobbled his way over to the bat and passed her a steaming skewer. Upon taking it, the bat immediately dropped her pot and turned off the stove before ducking deeper into her tent.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," The echidna shrugged, a little peeved at the bat's lack of gratitude.

He'd turned to make his way toward his shelter when a voice from the depths pulled him back, "Get in here you idiot."

Ducking inside, he found the bat had shed her dressing gown to escape the wetness on her right arm and muted the radio. The tent was divided in half, the left side had a plush ground covering and was clearly intended for sleeping while she had loaded her bag into the right. In the centre of the tent was a single guidepost supporting the tent's entirety. It was a rather small space, clearly intended for one, but it wasn't unmanageable.

Knuckles made his way to the non-sleeping side, sitting beside Rouge with his back against her bag. The bat was looking at him expectantly, her skewer was untouched, "Really? Even now?"

"I'm in no rush to poison myself," She smiled, squinting at the vegetable mass, "Though, I will admit, it does smell a lot tastier cooked than raw."

Well, at least she was willing to admit that. The skewer still smelled sweet but, perhaps due to the scent of smoke, it was no longer overwhelming. Knuckles started with what he knew, partaking in the soft flesh of the mushroom, before trying the sweet potato. So far so good, just the plantain was left to try. He did hesitate, there was no denying that, but eventually his teeth found their way around a chunk. The outer casing had softened but it still required a fair amount of chewing to get through. The insides were sweet, just as he'd imagined, but the texture was bizarre; cooking had made it brittle and crumbly. He could only really compare it to a meringue that tasted very strongly of honey.

"You'll want to spit out the rind but, besides that, I think it's pretty great," He half boasted, waiting for her to try it.

Without so much as a nod, Rouge reached into a compartment of her bag and drew out a knife. Now that it'd been cooked, the hard shell was soft enough for her to easily remove. That done and the rind thrown to the rain, she passed the blade over to him and took a hesitant bite. He watched her expression; she was trying to subdue her enjoyment but he noticed the fluttering of her ears and that she'd firmly shut her eyes.

"It's hardly a typical flavour combination, I think an alternate third ingredient would suit quite a lot better," She deadpanned before, quite quickly, taking another bite. Once it was swallowed, there was no denying the smile breaking the edge of her mouth, "I suppose it's not that bad though."

"Oh?" He smirked, "Not that bad, huh?"

"I suppose there's a certain, rustic, appeal to it," "It reminds me of a certain someone I'm quite fond of. A hard shell on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside."

Red heat overwhelmed his cheeks, he fully turned his attention on his meal, "Sh-Shut up."

As if to stoke the flames of his embarrassment, he felt the bat shit just a little closer. She seemed to pause though, only allowing her wing to drape over his far shoulder, as she realised that he was soaked, "I really need to get you a jacket…"

"You really don't," He smirked between mouthfuls.

"Too bad, I'm going to," Was the only response she needed. The bat knew he'd fight but eventually she'd get her way. No one else had this power over him. Was that common to all relationships? He wasn't sure.

Besides their verbal sparring, dinner was quite uneventful. Their stomachs filled, yawns started to break free and build off of one another. Before long tears had started to form in the corners of Knuckles' eyes, he found himself unwinding into the bag's semi-comfortable mass.

"So," Just as his eyes began to close, he felt a hand on his chest. She'd lulled over, turned to him and was now gently walking her fingers up his chest, "Are you staying the night?"

Bashfulness resumed, "I've got my own shelter Rouge…"

"And I've got a feeling it's going to be a lot colder than mine," "My offer to share still stands."

He'd only started to dry and now new beads of sweat were soaking his forehead. "N-No, I should go, my stuff's out there. This tent is pretty cramped."

"Well, if you're so certain," She half-huffed, pulling back, "You know where the door is."

The guardian paused as she shifted away, already half changing his mind. The battering of rain against the thick plastic of the tent seemed endless. It was dark out there, even if it wasn't quite night the canopy and clouds were blocking out the light, and the torchlight in here was so alluring. It was like the world was warning him to stay inside, directing him toward his arms. A sigh managed to slip his lips only to be overwhelmed by another yawn.

Who was he trying to kid; this wasn't even a debate, "I-I'll be back in a moment."

His feet pounded against the now wet grass as he rushed his way across the clearing and to his tiny shelter. He grabbed his drawstring-less bag, closing its mouth with a closed first, and darted back across the clearing. As he stumbled inside, he found the bat had already laid down on the comfortable side of the tent.

She pointed to her slightly dampened dressing gown, "Use that to dry yourself off and get over here."

Already thoroughly embarrassed and certain that was only going to get worse; Knuckles did as she commanded. The pink material was soft and more than capable of drying him but as he progressed the scent of the bat's strong perfume transferred onto him. He supposed his stay in here had made that inevitable but it did nothing to halt his already overwhelming blush. The echidna couldn't meat the bat's eye again; he ducked down into his back and drew out his blanket.

Unfolding it, he held it over to her, "Th-This should be big enough for both of us."

A tender grasp stole the chequered fabric away from him and, before he could even lie down, Rouge tossed the blanket over herself and killed the light. Muttering grumbles beneath his breath, Knuckles felt his way to the softer side and found the edge of his blanket. Trying not to invade her space too badly, the echidna tried not to take up too much of the blanket.

Unfortunately, he had little say in that. The covers shifted to fully envelop his body, he turned toward the sound of shifting, "Good evening," A certain spy cooed through the dark.

"G-Good evening," He groaned back.

Rouge was set him, bright eyes sparkled in the dark; she'd turned to face him. Her arms found their way around his centre as he felt her inch just a little closer. Before he could react her head was against his chest and his arms found themselves at her sides. The fur atop her head brushed against his muzzle and he felt her wings shift to fold in behind her; the bat wasn't planning to move from this spot. She wanted to sleep right here; she'd invaded his space and forced him into hers. The tent was cramped but she had shrunk what little space he had.

"Rouge…" He grumbled.

"Be a good teddy bear and lay still," She demanded, nails gently swirling in his fur, "Seeing as you're stealing my pillow, it's the least you can do."

The guardian huffed, rolling his eyes even though she couldn't see, but couldn't deny the comfort he felt. Lying with another was new and strange to him but so was all of this. Loving a person like this, lying like this and living like this was all so different to what he knew. Rather than doing everything himself there was give and take; they shared burdens just as their joy was shared. Finally, as he settled into the bat's grasp, Knuckles thought that he was starting to understand what being in a relationship meant.

When two people come together, no matter how it might appear, it isn't that one completes the other; when two people come together they are simply capable of more than on their lonesome. It's not that love is a cumulative force, it's that you bolster each other; by making the other stronger they make you stronger. It's not that partnerships are like cogs working in tandem; relationships are like musical duets. A musician can play on their own but a partner's aid can make things incredible and reveal what was previously unimaginable. A single cook can construct a masterpiece but it's so much easier for a pair to do so.

Slowly, bashfully, Knuckles allowed his hands to trace around her back. He held beneath her wings, his palms gently found the back of her hips and his fingertips wove to pull her closer still. Gradually, as gently as he could manage, he allowed his chin to rest atop her head.

"H-Hey, Bat-Girl?" He half whispered.

She responded with little more than a curious grunt and a flicker of her right ear.

"Thank you for sharing your shelter with me," He, bashfully, said, "I hope I'm not… uncomfortable to sleep with."

"Are you getting softer, Knuckie?" No matter how sentimental he felt, the bat still taunted him, "I knew I'd see the day."

A few months earlier he would have told her to shut up but as he felt her tenderly nuzzle into his chest, those words failed to manifest on his tongue,"G-G'night."

"Goodnight, Big-Red," The thief yawned against his chest, "Sweet dreams…"


End file.
